Chapter 4
791 Words
Chijoke left her room even before she could speak, slipping out as if to tell her silently that she could never run away from him.
The next morning, Nneoma ,her mother-in-law, complained of a headache and decided not to follow her to the akara spot. She was secretly grateful; she could not bear her watchful eyes that day.
At the roadside, she was detached. Her hands moved, but her heart was absent. She barely attended to customers. Her mind kept wandering, and she burnt some akara before she noticed.
That was when Ifeoma, her best friend of five years who lived in the city, suddenly showed up.
She greeted her happily, and she managed to smile as she asked, “Ifeoma! When did you come back? Why are you here?”
She replied that she had come to visit her ailing mother. But as she looked closely at her, her smile faded. “Adaeze, what is it? You look moody.”
She sighed, too heavy to keep it in anymore. They both sat on the bench near her stand, and slowly, she explained everything.
Her eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t interrupt. When she finished, she asked, “But Adaeze, why are you not locking your door?”
She shook her head. “I always thought it was my fault. But I found out last night that the bolt is already spoilt. And there’s no money to repair it yet, since Dozie hasn’t started sending money. He said it will be from next month.”
She frowned. “Then at least ask Mama to let you sleep in her room.”
She looked away. “I’ve thought about that. But that will only be temporary. What happens when Mama is not around, and Chijoke decides to act? He already brushes my hand when passing, and even winks at me when Mama isn’t looking. That one night scared me enough, Ifeoma. What if it happens again?”
She felt tears sting her eyes as she asked, “So tell me, what should I do?”
Ifeoma was quiet for a while, thinking. Then she asked, “How close are you to Mama? How does she treat you?”
“She’s very good to me,” she said immediately. “She treats me like her own daughter.”
“Then tell her,” Ifeoma advised firmly.
She hesitated, shaking her head. “What if she doesn’t believe me? What if she thinks I want to scatter her home?”
“No,” Ifeoma said, holding her hand. “Since she treats you like her daughter, she will understand. A true mother will not keep quiet about something this serious.”
Her words sank into her. She promised her she would think about it. She thanked her again and again, and promised to visit her and her mother during the weekend since she would be around for one week.
After Ifeoma left, she packed up her things. She was in no mood for business. As she walked home, she whispered a small prayer under her breath, asking God to give her courage as she prepared to tell Mama the truth.
When she reached the compound, she met Mama coming out of the house with a cup in her hand. Seeing her, she rushed forward and helped bring down the basin from her head.
“You came back early,” she said, her eyes searching her face. “Is everything alright?”
She looked around and asked quietly, “Is Chijoke around?”
“No,” she answered. “He went out in the morning. He hasn’t returned yet.”
“Good,” she said, lowering her voice. “Mama, please, can we go inside? There’s something I need to tell you.”
A look of concern crossed her face immediately. She turned without another word and led the way inside. “Is everything well?” she asked as we entered the sitting room.
They sat down. Her heart raced as she began to talk. She told her everything—how Chijoke had entered her room, what he tried to do, the broken bolt, the threats, the daytime touches and winks. She poured everything out while Mama listened quietly, nodding here and there, her face darkening with disappointment.
When she finished, silence fell. She sat still for some minutes, lost in deep thought. Then she let out a long, heavy sigh.
Looking straight into her eyes, she finally spoke.
“So… it’s true.”
Adaeze frowned, confused. “What do you mean, Mama?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t that of someone hearing this for the first time. It sounded as though she had been told before.
But she hadn’t told her until now...
- Writer
